


Not One To Be Messed With

by bakedgoldfish



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-23
Updated: 2002-11-23
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:45:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakedgoldfish/pseuds/bakedgoldfish
Summary: Response to Allison's challenge. . . I woke up, wrote it,and now I'm going back to sleep. G'night. Or g'morning. Whatever.





	Not One To Be Messed With

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Not One To Be Messed With**

**by:** Baked Goldfish 

**Category:** Leo/Margaret  
**Rating:** CHILD  
**Summary:** Response to Allison's challenge. . . I woke up, wrote it, and now I'm going back to sleep. G'night. Or g'morning. Whatever.  
**Disclaimer:** *sigh* Don't own 'em. No money here.  


"Margaret, these aren't the files I asked for," Leo complained, looking at the folder on his desk. 

She silently walked in, looked at the label on the folder, and walked back into her office with it. Leo sat in his chair, confused moreso than usual by her unusually subdued behavior. When she walked back in with a different, yet equally wrong, file, he became even more perplexed. "Margaret, I hate to tell you this, but. . ." 

Margaret walked over and snatched the file from his hands. When he looked at her sharply, she merely muttered a very insincere, "Sorry." She went back and finally got the correct file. 

Leo got up and followed her into her office. "What's going on?" he asked. 

Margaret stared at him with icy eyes. "I hate men," she seethed by way of a reply. 

"Makes *me* feel safe," Leo muttered sarcastically and a tad taken aback. "Any particular reason, or is this just a thing?" 

She shot him a sharp glare, and he thought for a moment that he should call some agents in, just in case. "What's *that* supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing," he answered quickly, raising his hands in front of him semi-defensively. "You just seemed distracted, that's all." 

Margaret's features crumpled into a visage of misery. "I'm sorry," she apologized. Composing herself once more, she added, "It won't happen anymore, I promise." 

"Right," Leo agreed, doubtful. "Tell me what happened." 

"It's. . . nothing. I'm fine." 

Leo eyed her dubiously before walking back into his own office. He would get her to spill, no doubt about it. He went back to work peacefully, pretending to be ignorant of Margaret's somewhat pleading glances. Lunch time came about, and she had yet to say a word about anything--not work-related comments, not complaints about anything, nothing. It was unusual for Margaret, who usually came up with slightly bizarre remarks throughout the day. 

Poking his head around her door, Leo peered at her while she absently munched on //Potato chips? How the hell does she keep that figure?// at her desk. She was eating in a very slow, monotonous way, staring at a paper on her desk. //Through it is more like it.// 

Knowing that she had not noticed him, he leaned against the wall by the door, arms crossed over his chest. He kept staring at her worriedly for a few moments before clearing his throat to make his presence known. 

Margaret nearly jumped out of her chair and yelped in surprise. Placing a hand over her chest, she turned to face her boss, eyes wide with more than just the normal fear of being startled out of one's thoughts. 

"Wh-yes?" she asked breathlessly. 

"Are you absolutely positive that you don't want to talk about it? Whatever 'it' may be, I mean." He regarded her with a masked expression but apprehensive eyes. "And don't tell me you're okay, 'cuz you're not." A few moments passed before she finally shook her head. 

"No, I'm f-" 

"You're not." 

"I'm fine, rea-" 

"Don't lie to me." 

"Would you stop-" 

"No. No way in hell." 

Margaret stared at her boss angrily. "You really wanna know, don't you?" 

Leo got a cross look on his face. "No, I've just got nothing better to do with my time. Of course I wanna know!" 

She opened her mouth as if to say something, and then immediately clamped it shut. Staring at him for a few seconds longer, she finally returned her attention to the potato chips. Picking up the almost-empty bag, she made her way to the trash can to throw it out. Walking back, she found her arm in Leo's tight grasp. 

He didn't see her steadily clenching and unclenching the fist of her free hand. He didn't see the images that flashed violently before her eyes. He only saw the intense look of anger that had come onto her face. Letting go abruptly, he moved to stand right in front of her. 

"Margaret?" He tried to meet her eyes; she averted them, trying not to meet his distressed gaze. "Margaret, look at me." When she didn't, he placed his hands on her shoulders and led her to the couch in his office. 

She sat down obediently, watching her hands as she fiddled with them. She felt the seat cushions shift as Leo sat down beside her. "I-I'm okay, really," she stated quietly, not lifting her head for fear that she would have to meet his eyes. 

"Margaret, stop lieing to me," Leo murmured. "Just tell me what's wrong." 

"You remember Todd?" She glanced up at him nervously. 

//I remember not liking him. . .// "Yeah." 

"Well, last night, he. . . umm, we broke up." 

"There's more to it, I take it." 

She nodded. Swallowing nervously, she continued. "Actually, *I* broke up with *him*. . . but he didn't like it much. He got angry." 

"Margaret, he didn't. . . he didn't try to hurt you, did he?" //I'll kill him. He's fish food. CJ's goldfish is gonna be eating well for weeks.// 

Again, she nodded, but with the added comment of, "He didn't though." Her voice became shaky when she said, "I broke his nose, Leo. . . I knocked him out!" Margaret looked at him with tears in her eyes. "He was unconcious on the kitchen floor, for a good ten minutes, and blood was everywhere, and what are you laughing at?" The last part of the sentence came out as a squeak. 

Leo grinned and chuckled and pulled her into a hug. "Margaret, remind me to never get on your bad side. . . " 

-end- 


End file.
